


Nothing But The Truth (Well, More or Less!)

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 11:04:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15266136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: August had started out being 'Awful Scary Story' month, but no one could live with the side-effects of that.  Then, mid-month, they voted to change it to 'Amazing Amatory Adventures' month, once Actor explained what 'amatory' meant.  That had a few side-effects of its own, resulting in a twenty-four hour pass in London that - you guessed it!   Somehow Garrison could visualize the whole month of August as a snowball rolling down a steep hill, gathering bulk, speed and momentum, eventually crushing his sanity, and his wallet, flat!  Well, at least he could rest a little easier next month - Songful September - what could go wrong with THAT??!





	Nothing But The Truth (Well, More or Less!)

**Author's Note:**

> War years, early on.

August was Awful Scary Story Month. Well, it was intended to be, anyway, back when Actor steered the guys into giving each month a theme. As he'd explained to Garrison the first week of June, "they were getting bored, Craig, and you know that is NOT a good idea!"

They'd started with the Merry Month of (May)hem, almost causing Garrison and Rawlins pull their hair out with their shenanigans; proceeded through a Juneful of Puns, made it all the way to Jokey July before Garrison made good on his threat to shoot the next man who made a bad pun in his presence, (kicking off a whirlwind discussion as to whether there were any puns that WEREN'T 'bad' puns). Jokey July went better than they would have guessed, though they still weren't sure Actor totally got the concept, and Chief just starting to catch on by month's end, and then they hit August, Awful Scary Story Month. 

They worked their way through a few ghost stories, a very graphic retelling of the Headless Horseman, two Indian legends involving more spiders and snakes and bloody hatchets than anyone was really happy about, and a really 'lovely' little story Goniff had found about about a old crone with pointy bloody teeth and three inch fingernails and some very unsavory habits that had more than one of them sweating when Goniff got up in the middle of the night to make a trip to the loo and they caught sight of his pale form in the dim shadows.

At first it was fun, trying to come up with the scariest stories they could imagine or otherwise find; the library got more of a workout than it usually did in the effort. Then, when the nights started getting a little loud from the nightmares, when the darkness just seemed to close in more than usual, when Garrison, in all innocence (well, almost - he SWEARS he didn't do it on purpose!) nearly gave Casino a heart attack by coming up behind him in the dark hall and tapping him on the shoulder, they thought better of the whole idea. 

After the first two weeks, they took a vote to change it to "Amazing Amatory Adventures Month". That got unanimous support, even from Garrison and Rawlins, who were getting a little tired of the guys waking them up yelling. Well, it got support once Actor explained what 'amatory' meant. And since no one had insisted the 'adventures' be their own, or even true, that was even better. Some things 'amatory' in nature that might easily qualify, well, you didn't necessarily want to be sharing with the guys, ya know?

"Anyway, don't see no reason we 'ave to limit ourselves; dreams and such, stories we've 'eard, that could all be right interesting too," Goniff argued, and the others shrugged and went along. 

If some of the stories led to equally restless sleep, now it was for a totally different reason, and at least they weren't yelling the walls down.

Though Josie did wonder at the increased traffic through her small cottage, she wasn't complaining, as she explained to the O'Donnell miss as she was serving her that one glass of bourbon the girl favored over beer. Well, they were on friendly terms, always had been since the redhead had bot her cottage some years back, Meghada not thinking to tend anyone's business, her having a particular dislike of anyone trying to mind HERS.

She did draw a firm line, though; just as she would tolerate no man trying any foolishness with her, she'd kept an eye out to make sure the other women weren't unduly bothered either, even taking a hand more than once when one of the soldier boys decided to claim what Nellie and Josie, even young Molly once, weren't of a mind to give. While the soldier boys didn't much appreciate that, the women of the village did, aye, and their menfolk as well, Constable Ben Miller in particular, and not just because Molly was his daughter.

Now, listening to Josie, the O'Donnell miss never blinked, just nodded her head, replied, "aye, they seem good lads; Old Howie says they're boisterous enough, and I've seen that, surely, but no harm in them. As long as you're agreeable to their visits, can't see it's anyone's business."

Josie assured her, "oh, that I am, agreeable, I mean. Each different, of course, but ever so considerate and never leave me wanting. Even make a point of leaving a little something tucked under the tea canister now and then, just as a token, you know."

Josie, looking around and seeing there were no other customers needing her right now, settled down to explain some of those 'differences', and if Meghada's lips trembled more than once, wondering just how the 'good lads' would take Josie making her privy to all this information, still, Josie meant no harm and it should make Meghada's future casual observation of the men at the pub more entertaining, to say the least.

"And it's just the three?" she did ask with some curiosity, knowing it was a four-man team, led by an American Lieutenant, not that he showed up in the pub very often.

"Oh, to be sure. Well, the Lieutenant don't, not locally anyway, though Nellie and I think he'd be a right treat if ever he did. Course, Nellie don't either; she's not looking for any man to fill George's side of the bed, but she agrees if she WERE to, the Lieutenant would be a prime pick, with those pretty green eyes and that nice tight arse showing so well in that uniform of his. And the tall foreign-looking one? Nice enough to us, never a harsh word, but a superior sort, you know? I imagine you have to have 'Lady' in front of your name for him to take notice. Just as well, I like a man what can have a little fun, some laughs along with the rest, you know, and Goniff and Casino can do that right enough. Of course, the young one, Chief, takes a lot to even bring a smile to HIS face, but when you do, he's a real heartbreaker, he is."

Then more customers walked in and Josie went about her business, while Meghada finished her drink and chuckled at the mental images Josie had left her with. She had no inclinations in that direction, never had, but certainly Josie seemed to relish what she partook of. Sometimes Meghada did wonder, though, but knew few of those designated 'Dragan' were tempted by such pleasures. Knowing she'd likely be the same didn't bother her, she'd long ago accepted that would likely be true for her as well. Certainly her reaction so far when any man reached out to her with greedy hands was not an amorous one; it tended to range from general annoyance to downright pissiness. {"No, such is likely not for me,"} she thought with calm resignation.

Actor, of course, WAS far above such things as visiting the local barmaid, however congenial she might be; he just talked Garrison into a little trip to London to 'make some additions to my disguises, and attending to my wardrobe and a few other such matters. It shouldn't take more than a couple of days, Craig," all with a very aloof air about him.

A snort from Casino and only slightly suppressed sounds from the others came from the hallway, where they were blatantly eavesdropping.

"Don't let 'im take that little black book a 'is, Warden; 'e won't need it anyway if that's all 'e's intending to do," gained Goniff a very dark look, and now Garrison was among the ones trying to keep their faces under control. Well, no, he was the ONLY one really trying to do that, and even he wasn't succeeding very well.

"Maybe we were better off with Awful Scary Story month," he offered, though not meaning that, remembering some of those bone-chilling yells in the night. "On the other hand, I DO have some things that need attending to in London myself; perhaps a twenty-four hour pass? With no monkey-business!"

Their eager agreement and sincere, earnest promises got a rather skeptical look from the American Lieutenant, but they all headed up to London the next afternoon. He wondered if he would live to regret this impulse. He wouldn't have to wonder for long.

Luckily he'd made a point of stopping at his bank as soon as he'd parted company with his guys; well, luckily for them, if not so much for Craig Garrison; he'd actually intended for that money to act as his emergency fund for the next several months, not just the one night!

The first call came just as he was getting back to his room; he'd barely gotten back from handling THAT little fiasco for a rather shame-faced but highly annoyed Actor before the phone rang again. He groaned, hoping his 'emergency fund minus $300' would be enough for whatever this was, tugged his jacket back on, and headed out to a rather unsavory part of town. 

As he headed down the darkened side street, he heard the soft 'snick' and tensed, but the arm was already around his neck and the blade nudging his kidney. "Gonna get yourself dead, Warden, you keep walking around like you got blinders on," a quiet voice whispered in his ear as the arm moved away.

Garrison exhaled in a rush, "Chief! What the hell??!"

"Casino got himself in some trouble," was the laconic answer. Well, of course he had; this was Casino they were talking about!

"And Goniff?"

He felt more than saw the shrug, "lost track of him awhile back, real early on; saw someone he knew, said he'd catch up with us later maybe."

Garrison could just see his chances for any sleep tonight headed down the drain rapidly.

"Okay, fill me in," listening with no real surprise to a tale of a card game, a big-busted brunette, a jealous boyfriend, a bar fight, and subsequent deposit of one slightly bruised safecracker in the local lockup, two streets over. He sighed, "okay, let's go get him," and Chief shook his head.

"Not gonna be so easy, Warden. The boyfriend? He's the head lockup guy's brother." Yeah, forget about sleep; it obviously wasn't going to happen. 

It had taken some heavy pressure, plus most of the remaining cash Garrison had on him to get Casino released.

The glare he'd gotten had told him Garrison was NOT amused, "this is 'no monkey-business'??"

Casino just gave a totally unrepentant grin, "yeah, well, the boyfriend looked a little like a monkey, a big ape maybe, but that brunette??! Oh, shit, Warden! I just had to try, ya know??!" The next glare was just as unamused, and had as much effect as the first one.

At Garrison's more than a little firm insistence, they headed back to the hotel, though he did spare an uneasy thought about their pickpocket, where he was, what he was doing. Still, London was Goniff's town; he should be able to manage on his own better than the others could; Garrison somehow knew that was a forlorn hope even as it went through his mind. If Chief and Casino were worried, they didn't show it. 

***  
Goniff:

They'd no more hit the streets of London, Garrison off doing whatever he had to do, them each with the place he could be reached if necessary, "and I DO NOT want it to be necessary, understand??!", ready to let Actor go his regal way to the upscale part of town, ready to let the three of them go theirs in a slightly different direction, when Goniff saw him.

He would have recognized him anywhere, and he knew what he had to do, had to try and do anyway. A fast slap on the back to each of the others, and he moved quickly to push in between them.

"See someone I used to know, fellas; may catch up to you later, ei?" and he was gone, them shaking their heads in annoyance at the little pickpocket.

Casino snorted, "musta been a real looker, he was in one hell of a hurry!"

Actor just shrugged, "perhaps it was not so much someone he was trying to reach, perhaps someone he was trying to avoid. Goniff does have his share of enemies in this place, he's admitted that to us."

Chief stood and watched as the slender pickpocket wove through the people on the streets, "looks like he's headed towards someone; can't tell who."

Oh, well, it wasn't any of their business and Goniff hadn't asked for their interference or help. They went their own way, Actor in the direction of Mayfair, Casino and Chief in the direction of a little drinking and gaming establishment they'd discovered on a previous trip. 

Goniff didn't risk a look back as he hurried away from the guys. He didn't THINK Actor had noticed when he'd slipped that little black book out of the taller man's pocket, but it had been a rush job, a spur of the moment impulse when he'd seen that familiar face at the entrance to that alleyway. No, he didn't want the names and addresses of those ever-so-elegant women Actor favored, but he knew Actor kept a few largish bills tucked away in the back. He hadn't liked doing that, told himself maybe he wouldn't have most likely if it had been Casino or Chief, but he figured Actor could talk his way out of any little difficulties that might arise; knew the man had a few little stashes around town he could dip into if need be. Well, he did too, of course, but there was no time for that. This was too important. 

The man stood there, looking down at the small boy appraisingly, then smiled and reached out his hand to take the child by the shoulder.

"Ei, leave off! 'E's my problem, I'll take care of 'im."

Goniff frowned down at the startled boy, "told you to wait for me, didnt I? Come along now, I'm ready for my dinner; was 'alf an 'our ago, stead 'ave to come searching for your miserable self."

The well-dressed man took all that in, gave Goniff a steady look, glancing back down to the boy's face. "Here, I'm willing to pay for an hour with him," and drew back as that offer met with a snarl worthy of any alley rat.

"And I'm willing to let you go on your way rather than ending up face down in the river! 'Ow's that for a bargain, mate?" and there was something in that feral look that made a believer of the man and sent him on his way fast.

The boy started to scurry away, but the hand that grabbed his shirt collar was just too fast.

"Now, let's go look for that dinner, what say?" and he didn't let the boy out of his grasp, nor did he wait for an answer. "Name's Goniff, w'at's yours," he asked companionably.

A wary glance upward, a slight widening of the eyes as the youngster caught a better look at Goniff in the lights of the street, "call me Smudge, most anyways," he replied grudgingly.

"Smudge, ei? Chimney work and such?" The closed face would have told most people nothing; it told Goniff a hell of a lot. 

With a shrug, "used to; outgrew it recent-like."

"You got people, someplace permanent?" got him another shrug.

"I 'ad a place, if I pay. Now . . ." and that told Goniff the rest of what he needed to know.

"Well, come along. Getting 'ungrier by the minute," and he tugged the boy into a small pub, and on to a small corner table. 

They'd not been there but a couple of minutes when she walked over and stood in front of them, eyeing Goniff carefully before letting a smile of recognition come to her worn face.

"It's been a long time, boy. Thought you 'eaded out across the water."

He smiled up at her in return, a genuine one though he had a dozen others he could have used instead.

"Ei, Maudie! Well, I'm back, for now anyway. W'at's hot and ready for me and my young friend 'ere?"

She told him, he ordered and soon bowls of stew, a plate of bread and cheese sat on the table.

"Well, go on, eat," he ordered, and a chill of remembrance went through him when those too-knowing pale blue eyes looked up at him and the small blond asked, cautiously, "and w'at do I 'ave to do for it?"

Goniff swallowed and his throat was tight as he replied, "ya dont gotta do nothing for it, just eat it, that's all; slow-like, so you don't get sick." The boy was still suspicious, but even more hungry, and soon he was eating like it was his first meal in days, which it might well have been.

Goniff studied the child; it was like looking in to a mirror, a good number of years past. He found himself snarling, and made himself stop when he saw it alarmed his dinner companion.

{"Bloody Redmond's! Bloody East End! Bloody 'ell!!!"}. He made up his mind, well, had pretty much made it up at the first sight of the boy at the edge of the alley; that was, after all, the reason he'd picked Actor's pocket. A look, a jerk of his chin had Maudie back at the table.

"Aught else, lad?"

"A drink for me, Maudie, and something sweet for the both of us if you 'ave it?"

She nodded and was soon back with a whisky and two napkins of sweet biscuits. She waited, having a good idea what was coming.

"Maudie," he hesitated, then firmed his lips and nodded sharply, "you still 'ave that friend, the one w'at's willing to find good places?" indicating the boy making his way through the biscuits as a ferocious pace, as if afraid someone was going to snatch them away.

She looked at the boy, then at Goniff, and asked a question with just one raised brow. A closed look came over the pickpocket, "no, not mine. Wouldn't leave one a mine on the streets, Maudie, thought you'd . . ." and there was a little bit of offended hurt in his eyes.

She reached out to pat his shoulder, "aye, well, I wouldn't've thought it of you; you're a good lad, always were. Yes, our Caeide's mother, she still does that when we ask."

Goniff reached into his pocket for that little black book, and under the table slipped those large bills into Maudie's pocket. She glanced down and frowned, but then sighed and nodded; times were lean, and she hadn't the ready to get the boy on his way, not without leaving the till empty.

"You'll explain to him, so he doesn't go running off?"

He nodded, "who's available, can be trusted to get 'im there?" and he sighed in relief at her reply. Yes, Derrick's father, Cam Madison, he remembered him; he was a good one, could be trusted with the boy, both to get him safely to where he needed to be, AND not to let himself be tricked by the boy who probably had a few tricks up his sleeve if he were anything like Goniff had been at his age. Well, Derrick had run the Brangle Street Lads, and his cousin Kyle acting as his second, so the older man would know all about tricky!

The boy finished his dinner, and sat now, listening as Goniff and Maudie explained. Those wide eyes were anything but trusting, and the battle upstairs when Goniff managed a quick bath that got rid of most of the accumulated dirt, and Maudie hustled him into an oversized nightshirt, was only partly in rejection of the strict orders he was being given. When pointed in the direction of the narrow bed, being told firmly to sleep, that Goniff would be staying in the chair over to the side, the suspicion grew, but weariness overtook the suspicion and soon the boy was asleep.

He woke when Marisol slipped into the room later, and cringed back against the headboard, looking from Goniff to Marisol and back again, breathing heavily.

"Ei, w'at did I say now? Go back to sleep. It's just Marisol; she's fine."

It took awhile, but when neither of them made a move toward him, the boy, now admitting to the name of Sam, slid back down and fell into an uneasy sleep. They kept their voices at a whisper.

"Maudie got in touch with Cam Madison; he'll be by first thing in the morning to collect the boy. Caeide's mum is expecting them; says she'll keep him with them at their place or their oldest girl's for now, til she gets to know him, figures out what would be a good fit. He should like it there, though it'll be a change from city life, acourse. They're good people, 'ave a kindly way about them, good with youngsters; well, they've raised enough of their own, and any we've sent them seem to 'ave done well."

He nodded, anxious to get the boy on his way, yet strangely reluctant to part company with him.

"Best 'ave some of Cam's friends along side. There was one I scared off last night; a toff," and Marisol nodded knowingly.

"We'll do that. Will you stay to see him off? He might take it better that way," she suggested.

He hesitated, knowing he'd get yelled at plenty when he finally showed up if he waited that long, but nodded resolutely, "I'd like that; I'll stay." 

And stay he did, and explained once again to young Sam the how and why of it all, well, perhaps not so much the why, not really, but all the boy needed to hear right now.

Cam reminded Goniff, "gonna need more of a name than just 'Sam'; needs a last name too - what's 'e to be called?"

A small hand tugged at him, "w'at's YOUR last name?" and he let it cross his mind, just for a second, then rejected the thought just as quickly, remembering who and what he was, remembering who'd worn that name before him.

"No, Sam, a boy's better off with a name 'e can be proud of. Tell you w'at, Sam. 'Ow about I give you the best name I know, a name you couldn't do better than, in my opinion. 'Ow'd that be?"

At the wide eyed eager nod, Goniff nodded firmly, "then it's ruddy well settled. Cam, blokes, this 'ere's Samuel Craig Garrison, 'Sam' to 'is friends, ei?" and he got the first smile he'd seen on the youngster's face.

"Samuel Craig Garrison. I like that, I do!"

Goniff stood watching as Cam Madison and a trio of cronies headed off with the small boy, watched and waved back as Sam turned and waved at the corner. Stood and watched as a small boy he somehow thought of as himself so many years ago made his way off to get a chance Goniff hadn't had.

Maudie laid her hand on his shoulder, "I'll send you word, if you like. Felane always lets me know how they're doing, the ones we send her."

He swallowed and looked over at her, "I'd like that, Maudie, I'd like that a lot."

"Come back in, lad; I'll pour you a drink," but he shook his head, "no, gotta get back to the others; there'll be more than enough yelling as it is."

"Then tuck this back away in that little black book," and she slipped into his pocket, nice and slick so no one else would ever have known it, the same amount of money he'd slipped her earlier. When he protested, she just shrugged, "those were my orders, lad, to hand you that, and to give you this as well," leaning in to kiss him on his cheek, finding more than a little amusement in his shocked eyes. But he took time to give her the name of The Doves, letting her know she could send a letter there to reach him, and he started off to that hotel where the Warden and the guys were probably waiting for him by now.

She watched him head off, her from the doorway, the other two women from the window. Marisol turned her head, "and just 'ow'd you get mixed up in this, Rue?"

And the young woman, Rue, also known as Meghada ru Dragan of the Clan O'Donnell replied, "just happenstance, Mari. But I'm glad I did."

And there was yelling, lots of it, and a goodly amount came from Actor, well, after Garrison finished his spiel.

"Ei, Actor, don't be that way," Goniff pleaded, "was just a joke! Figured you'd 'ad the numbers memorized anyway," as he handed back that little black book. Actor continued yelling, but gave it up after awhile.

Later, Garrison noticed the tall Italian looking more than a little puzzled.

"Actor?"

"That money you advanced me to get me out of my difficulty last night, the three hundred dollars; I had my three one hundred dollar bills folded into the binding of this, Craig."

Garrison let out a disgusted hmmpph, "I'll see that he gives it back, Actor! Goniff! I swear . . ."

"No, Craig, listen. I had three one hundred dollar bills. I NOW have ONE one hundred dollar bill, two fifties, and five twenties. Now just why do you suppose . . .?" and they both turned to watch the slender pickpocket telling some elaborate story of a pretty little blue-eyed blonde he just couldn't resist and a night he'd never forget. And there was a solid ring of truth to his voice, and the deep satisfaction on his face pointed to all that being nothing but the truth.


End file.
